“Keller,” I correct her. “Actually, just call me Jake. And I’m here about the weekend music gig. Although, I can clear tables if need be.”

She tilts her head, hooks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and smiles, and my heart stops. Fucking hell, where did this woman come from?

And where the hell are these thoughts coming from?

“I’m quite sure I can’t afford you, Mr. Keller.” She turns to walk away, but I catch her elbow, turning her back to me.

“It’s not about the money,” I say quickly. “I’d really just like to play.”

“Your whole band?” she asks with a frown.

“No, just me. I’ll bring my guitar and all I’ll need you to provide is a mic and a stool, but I’m sure I can come up with a mic if you don’t already have one.”

She blinks at me, as if I’m not speaking English, then finally says, “Okay, where are the cameras?” She looks around the room and points at Red behind the bar. “Did you stage this? Seriously, you guys are bitches for doing this to me.”

Red laughs and shakes her head. “No tricks here, Addie. But send him over to me when you’re done with him.”

Addie turns back to me with skeptical eyes. “She was one of my friends with your poster on her wall.”

“And I’m not afraid to admit it,” Red says loudly as she stocks more wine.

“So, the job.” I cross my arms over my chest and watch her eyes dilate when they land on the sleeve tattoo on my right arm.

She’s not immune to me.

“Do you seriously want to sing here for peanuts?”

“I’d prefer popcorn, but I’ll take the peanuts.”

I smile and she chews her bottom lip and crosses her own arms, mirroring me. All that accomplishes is pushing her tits together, giving me a prime view of the best body I’ve seen in . . . ever.

Her curves have curves, and she owns every one of them, packaging them nicely in an outfit that screams class. In this moment, all I want to do is take her in my hands and feast on her.

But, one thing at a time.

“The job is for Friday and Saturday nights, from ten to close.”

“What time do you close?”

“Midnight.”

“I can work with that.”

She nods and then tips her head back and laughs. Her voice is raspy and just as sexy as the rest of her.

“Did I just hire Jake Knox?”

“No, ma’am, you just hired Jake Keller.” I sigh and rub my hand over my mouth, remembering that I haven’t shaved in about a week. I must look real professional, walking in here in questionably clean jeans and black T-shirt, unshaven, hair a fucking mess because I’m pretty sure I just ran my fingers through it before I left the house this morning.

But Addie just chews that lip again, then nods. “Okay, you can start this Friday and we’ll see how it goes.”

“Is this an audition?” I ask with surprise.

“Everyone auditions, Mr. Keller,” she replies and rests her hands on her hips. “But it’s a mutual audition. I’ll see if you’re a fit for us, and you’ll see if we’re a fit for you.”

Oh, I’m pretty sure the fit will be just fine, sweetheart.

“Sounds good. I’ll be here at nine thirty on Friday night to set up.”

“Great. You can just come back here to the bar. I’ll meet you here and show you around.”

I nod and shove my hands in my pockets, suddenly nervous for the first time since I was a kid, which kind of annoys me and makes me smile all at the same time.

“Now that that’s settled,” I say and hold her pretty blue eyes with mine. “How about if I take you out for a drink after closing Friday night?”

She blinks for a moment, not moving, then shakes her head and laughs, looks at her shoes and then back up at me.

“Let me make something perfectly clear,” she begins, speaking clearly. “I’m not a part of this offer. Nor will I ever be. I’m your boss, that’s it. Not to mention, I am in a relationship.”

“Idiot woman,” Red mutters behind the bar, but Addie ignores her.

“Understood,” I reply respectfully, but can’t help but feel a moment of regret.

Addison is one beautiful woman.

I have a feeling she’s much more than that, but she belongs to someone else, so it doesn’t really matter.

And why in the fuck does it matter to me anyway? Jesus, has it really been that long since I got laid?

“I’ll see you Friday night.”

“Yes, you will,” she replies and immediately turns her back on me, sauntering back to the bar in those amazing fuck-me heels, her ass swaying the whole way.

I can’t wait to see her Friday night.

I wave at Red and walk back out the way I came. The restaurant is filling up with lunch patrons. When I hit the sidewalk outside, I call Christina.

“Miss me already?” There’s a smile in her voice.

“Desperately. And, I think I just got a job.”

“You went?” She squeals and then relays the information to her husband, Kevin, before returning to me. “And you got the job?”

“Of course I got the job.”

“Did the manager recognize you?”

“Yes, but something tells me I got the job despite my music history, not because of it.”

“Interesting. I like her already.”

“So do I.”

THE DRIVE TO my home west of Portland via the Sunset Highway only takes about thirty minutes from downtown. That’s one of the things that I love about this city: you can go from bustling city to lazy suburb in just half an hour.